A Conversation In The Uncharted Territories
by Giton
Summary: A random conversation allegedly with Bialar Crais


_Disclaimer on punctuation and spacing: seems to take some out!  
  
Disclaimer: "Farscape" is a protected trademark and I'm just borrowing the characters. I promise to give them back once I've used them, hopefully more or less intact. Eloy Galla is my own.  
_  
Title: A Conversation In The Uncharted Territories  
Author: GitonCrais  
Rating: General  
Category: General  
Spoilers: None  
Keywords: Just another day in the UT's for Crais  
Summary: A random conversation allegedly with Bialar Crais  
  
**A Conversation In The Uncharted Territories  
**  
by GitonCrais  
  
.  
  
She had been watching the stranger for over an arn now. If asked, she could never have explained why. Maybe because he was exotic looking, so preternaturally calm; or just plain interesting.  
  
He was slowly sipping from the same glass of raslak that he had ordered when he had come in, and it was still half full. This could mean a number of things. Maybe he was not used to drinking, or didn't have the credits to pay for more than one, or maybe he was waiting for someone. His covert glances towards the door at intervals supported the last impression.  
  
He was probably a Sebacean, like herself, from one of the colonies that was blessed with a warmer climate. His skin tone wasn't as pale as most, but was lightly tanned. His arched eyebrows were set over calm, dark-brown eyes that looked almost black, and his black hair fell in curly waves over his shoulders. A well-trimmed goatee encircled his full lips and set off a strong jaw line. He looked like someone who was perfectly in command of himself, and probably of others too.  
  
His clothes were black and although of an older cut, they showed quality and fit him snugly.  
  
The collar was set high but left open almost casually at the front. However, somehow she got the distinct impression that given other settings, it would probably be worn neatly closed, and it would still look just as natural.  
  
.  
  
For a micron, her attention was diverted when one of the waiters came over to ask her if she needed anything else; she shook her head.  
  
When she looked back at his table, he had gone. She sighed. A pity; maybe if he had stayed long enough, she might have walked over and struck up a conversation. On the other hand, if he had been waiting for someone...  
  
"Is this seat taken?" His deep voice, a little rough around the edges, startled her, and she swung to the speaker. It was the dark stranger she had been observing. There was watchfulness and amusement in his dark brown eyes.  
  
"No...it's free...I mean...it is not taken..." she stammered.  
  
He sat down in the seat opposite her, the one facing the door.  
  
He had a catlike grace and his presence was even more compelling up close. She kept her eyes on him as if hypnotised.  
  
"I've noticed that you have been watching me."  
  
She blushed. She hadn't realised that she had been that obvious. "I didn't mean to..."  
  
He canted his head slightly, his eyes locked calmly onto hers, "Do you normally observe strangers so closely for no reason?"  
  
"Yes...No...I mean..." she cursed herself for her insufficiency with words. She was generally quite eloquent and yet with this stranger...  
  
The corner of his mouth lifted in an amused curve, "You've watched me since I sat down. I was wondering if there were any reason for you to do so."  
  
"No," she pulled her eyes away from him, hoping to dispel the magic, but she could still feel his eyes on her. She swallowed and looked back.  
  
He was still watching her calmly, scrutinising her, she was sure.  
  
"Are you...are you waiting for someone?"  
  
"Yes...as you must have already observed," his voice was almost hypnotically gentle.  
  
"Yes...I did notice that you were watching the door."  
  
He inclined his head and a smile appeared, "Well done."  
  
"What is your name," she asked, feeling a little bolder.  
  
"Captain will do," replied the man, "and yours?"  
  
She had not wanted to give her name and yet she found it difficult to deny this stranger any information, "Galla...Eloy Galla."  
  
"Well met, Eloy Galla."  
  
His eyes shifted imperceptibly to the door as soon as it opened, keeping her within his peripheral vision. He turned his attention back to her when the person who stepped through turned out not to have been the one he was expecting. "What do you normally do when you are not observing strangers, Eloy?"  
  
She wanted to look into his eyes but was afraid she would disappear in them. Her eyes were drawn to his mouth, so full, so firm. She shook herself, better to look him in the eyes, "I am a seamstress...quite a successful one." She added the last remark quickly; she didn't want to sound boring to this man.  
  
His eyes took in her whole form, her dress, and then gazed back steadily into her face. His eyes were fixed on her, never wavering for even a microt, and she wondered when he would blink.  
  
"There is no shame in being 'just' a seamstress. It is an honourable profession."  
  
It was true successes were far between. She had been lucky these past weekens, but it was hard to tell what the next couple of weekens would bring. She looked almost guiltily at him, "Sorry."  
  
"No need to apologise," he answered.  
  
"And you," she asked him.  
  
She could sense a little tension rise in him. He was on the alert now, "What about me?"  
  
"What do you do when you are not waiting for someone?" Two could play the game.  
  
"Plot the stars."  
  
"Only plot the stars," she asked coyly, "You said you are a Captain, don't you have any crew to order about?"  
  
"Yes, I have."  
  
"So... you plot and order people about...anything else?"  
  
"No." His attention returned to the door again. He looked quickly back at her, "You must excuse me."  
  
He left the table. She watched him walk over to the newcomer, a Vorcarian by the looks of it and wondered what he needed the Vorcarian's assistance for. They spoke in low tones briefly, and then left the establishment.  
  
She returned her attentions to her glass of Tharkalian tea. She would probably never see him again. She sighed once more. Pity, he looked interesting enough.  
  
.  
  
He sat next to her, "Would you like another glass?"  
  
He had startled her and she looked up, "Yes...I would love to...you have what you wanted?"  
  
He smiled, "Yes. The transaction was successful."  
  
He motioned the waiter over and ordered two teas. He looked back at her.  
  
Somehow she found his silence even more intimidating than his eyes or his voice.  
  
She cleared her throat, "Why did you come back to my table?"  
  
He looked at her with mock rejection, "You do not find my company pleasant?"  
  
"Yes...I mean..." She found it hard to believe that this man was ever denied any company.  
  
"I had thought that maybe...after you had concluded your business, you would be on your way again."  
  
"I will...soon." His smile made her stomach flutter.  
  
The man confused Eloy, or, more precisely, she found her own reactions to him to be confusing. He made her want to talk to him but he also made her want to be silent. She wanted to hear him speak, yet he said little. When she looked up at him, she saw the amusement in his eyes, but the rest of his face showed calm; or maybe not. She saw a miniscule tightening of his lips. He WAS amused!  
  
She wasn't sure whether to feel embarrassed or flattered by that revelation.  
  
She asked, "Where will you go after you leave here?"  
  
"Somewhere...the next planet...the next sector..." He looked away briefly.  
  
"No real plans?"  
  
His brows twitched with a slight hint of suspicion, "No, why do you ask?"  
  
She immediately regretted pressing the issue, "Nothing in particular...it was just a question."  
  
Again the man smiled at her.  
  
Her eyes lit up again, pleased that he wasn't upset with her, "You...you like space?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She was surprised he had answered her. She had almost expected him to avoid any conversation not having to do with the weather or their tea after his initial reaction to her question.  
  
The man continued, "Space is full of sounds and colours; it is beautiful. If you ever get the chance, you should see it for yourself."  
  
"Not very likely," Eloy demurred.  
  
"A pity," said the man.  
  
Eloy nodded in assent.  
  
The tea was nearly finished.  
  
The man drained his cup and stood up, "It's time for me to go. Thank you for the conversation." The hand he had placed briefly on her shoulder was warm and strong.  
  
She smiled up at him, "You stay safe, Captain. Maybe we will meet again."  
  
Again the soft smile, "I would like that."  
  
She watched him leave. His back was ramrod straight. He didn't turn around.  
  
.  
  
Days later, she saw him again...on a wanted-beacon.  
  
Captain Bialar Crais, Peacekeeper renegade!  
  
She let his name tumble in her mind. Savoured it.  
  
Their brief encounter had left her thinking of him for days.  
  
Now that she knew his name, she sent a quick prayer to Cholok to keep him safe, "May Cholok protect you...Bialar..."  
  
.  
  
**THE END**


End file.
